Poem – Mount Corcoran

Mount Corcoran
		-Albert Bierstadt, 1877

The black bear waits
to kiss the water’s edge
Under fallen trees
		the trout nap together
and the waterfall
hums almost unnoticed.

Just a “mountain lake”
before the water dried:
From a hidden source
	the artificial light shines
on the sides
of white-capped triangles.

Under the clouds,
poor Al renamed his baby.

Under the approaching clouds,
cranes relax against redwoods,
rubbing against the aging sequoias.

The paintbrush dabbed lightly
before another application,
before the bassinet wails
asking to be tended.

Oh, let’s frame it.


-O'Connell